


What's In A Word - Warmth

by Davechicken



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt - warmth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's In A Word - Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thekingsparty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingsparty/gifts).



It’s cold. No, it’s not cold. It’s **Baltic**. Chris Argent breathes out and watches the air fog like a dragon’s breath. He glares at it, though it dissipates the minute he stops blowing. 

Worst thing is, it’s his fault. He should have thought to buy _Eskimo_ clothes for this trip, but he’d stupidly thought that the civilised world would invest in adequate heating. He hadn’t factored in a storm that cut off the mains and sent everyone onto generators. It’s not like he has a wardrobe full of thick, woollen sweaters waiting at home, though. 

“Layer up,” Derek said. 

Layer up. Like wearing all the shirts he can fit over one another will help. Even the slightly increased insulation and trapped air does little to keep his core temperature up. He’s tried working out, tried moving to generate his own heat… but he’s tired, now. Tired and he just wants to sleep. 

Every blanket they have is wrapped around him, a little Chris-burrito with only his nose and eyes visible. He has the pillows strategically placed to look like it’s just a comfortable position, not a crackpot excuse for a hat. He wonders how long they will be stuck here… and when will the food run out? The snow means they’ll never die of dehydration, but eventually the canned and dried goods will run out. 

(And yes, he knows he’s being melodramatic, but he’s entitled to it, he thinks.)

Eventually Derek returns. He’s wearing more clothes than he normally would, but he’s nothing like the mummified Argent. Bundled under his arm is more supplies, and Chris would make grabby hands for them if it wouldn’t result in hypothermia. And look pathetic. 

“Got some more candy,” Derek says. “And coffee.” The bag looks like it contains other things as well, but those are the important things right now. Candy will keep their sugar levels up quickest. Not the best diet, but needs must.

Chris grunts, and makes pleading eyes.

Derek puts the bag down. “Got some tinder, too. I don’t want to burn books unless it’s absolutely necessary, but I got some for when we run out of fuel blocks.” He bends and removes his shoes, and Chris tries not to bounce.

“…are you even alive in there?” Derek asks, as he climbs onto the bed.

Chris answer by a precise, military-neat manoeuvre of opening the blanket sandwich and wrapping it around him, pulling him in close to cuddle. He latches onto the side of his wolf, shuddering in bliss. Derek generates more heat than he does, his body coping better. Chris puts cold (sock-wrapped) feet between the other’s legs, and burrows his face into the side of his neck.

“No,” Chris says, when he’s finally comfortable.

The wolf grins, and there’s a soft kiss pressed to his temple. Derek wraps around him in return, rubbing low on his back to keep his core temperature up.

“Don’t expect I’ll fuck you if you’re undead, Argent. I’m not into necrophilia.”

Chris answers with a bite to Derek’s ear. He knows Derek won’t hold out on him for long, not when he knows just how to push his buttons.

“…I’ll resurrect you, first.”

Hah. Chris kisses him, and his eyes are bright. “Candy first. Sex after.”

Derek’s hand rustles under the covers, and he pulls out a chocolate bar. He’d kept it pressed against him to warm it up specially. This is why Chis loves him. He makes pathetic baby-bird face, not wanting to move his arms from around his wolf.

“You really are useless,” Derek says fondly, and breaks the first piece off to feed him.

Chris doesn’t mind, because there’s a low warmth in his belly, and it isn’t even all chocolate.


End file.
